Cause we both have the fear, the fear of being alone
by TheOtterKnight
Summary: Nico's current mission was to go aboard the Princess Andromeda and plant some bombs while Kronos' vessel was still there. The problem was, there was something below deck. Rather, someone. And he wants Nico's help. - - - - Last Olympian AU. Prophecy kid!Nico, god!merman!Percy. Percico.


**Pairing(s):** Percy/Nico

 **Warning(s):** Violence, kidnapping/being held in captivity, near death experience through drowning.

 **Universe:** Alternate book canon. Nico is the child from the prophecy and Percy is a minor sea god.

 **Word Count:** 4,554

 **Prompt:** _Because it's Percico weekend, Merman! Percy and Human! Nico ?_

 **A/n:** This was written two years ago and is not representative of my current writing.

* * *

 **Cause we both have the fear, the fear of being alone**

Nico is painfully aware of the sweat dampening along the back of his orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, and how wet his brow is. He wields the stgyian dagger firmly in his hands, his palms getting slicker and his grip more lax but he still tries to scissor through the ropes. The barrels that he's untangling rocks dangerously, but he shoves out a hand quickly to steady it. The young boy - for that is what he was, there was no doubt about it, not with the baby fat on his cheeks and the flush high on his face - shoots a slow, steadying glance around, checking to see if anybody was around.

The coast was clear. He stands up and bodily throws his shoulder against the barrels, knocking them overboard and into the sea. At the pace that the Princess Andromeda was going at, the noise was lost beneath the seafoam and sharp splashes of the boat rocking the water. His mouth still tastes sour, and he could feel his blood pulsing. It's impossibly easy to get down on the lower levels, and he's almost surprised that he hasn't thrown up once yet, not with how seasick he gets usually.

It's fairly uneventful for the most part, as he darts beyond the monsters patrolling the ship and into seemingly empty rooms. He drops his backpack noisily to the floor and draws out the bombs that Charles Beckendorf - another demigod, except of Hephaestus descent - had drafted for him. The plan was to destroy the Princess Andromeda, and unfortunately Kronos' chosen vessel - Luke Castellan - and hopefully the last of Kronos' power. Nico and Charles both were set up for the task - Charles because it was his plan and Nico because he was the Chosen One of the prophecy. Oh joy.

He sets down the last bomb in a hidden place and activates it before he looks around, then ducks out of the room quickly. There's only two rooms left on the yacht, so it should be easy enough for him to get the lower levels done while Charles did the upper levels. Nico, however, didn't sense a malevolent force in the room - which he could usually surmise from the feel of their souls - so he didn't bother checking the room when he moved inside and dropped his backpack for the now routine drop off.

Which is why he was completely caught off guard when he heard a quick and loud, "Oh." He whirls, heart leaping into his chest. It isn't difficult for him to spot the person crouched in the tank - or, rather, bathtub, since that seems to be the relevant size - but he is still alarmed to see a massive fin poking out the side. It's a tremendous size of seven feet, most likely, and it looks dry and almost flaky, but still shone with an ethereal gleam. Nico's eyes trail up, past the sleek shape and to the lithe chest that accompanied it. There's tanned skin, kissed by the sun - or maybe it's naturally like that -, but it's supple and fresh of scarring except along his shoulder, which is still narrow but Nico expects to broaden with age. There's a dark navy imprint of a trident along his right shoulder, pressed into his skin like a scar or tattoo. The curve of his jaw and the lines on his face probably put him at the young age of seventeen. He has trademark tousled hair, ebony tresses, and nicely shaped eyes, flecked with blues and greens and holy Hera, who knew that such colors existed? "You're a demigod, aren't you?" The boy sounds almost childishly excited, eyes lighting up impossibly bright. It puts Nico off, and he's at a lost of what to say. Or maybe it has something to do with how fast his heart beats in his chest.

"Yes," he says cautiously, unsheathing and holding his dagger out in front of him. But it seemed useless - unless the older boy tried to hit him with his tail, he otherwise couldn't do much with how he's positioned. He's practically immobile in the presumably salt-water tub, and there's dark shackles binding his wrists, no matter if he sometimes wiggled his fingers for emphasis. Something akin to dread settles in Nico's chest when he sees the etching on the binds. "You're dangerous." He points the dagger accusingly at the mer, and takes a step back for good measure. "Those are Titan-cursed shackles."

"Um," is the intelligent response that he gets. Did Nico sense a faint accent? "Well, that depends on how you look at it, I guess. I _could_ be dangerous, but, usually, I'm really not."

"Usually?" he repeats, skeptically.

The guy's grin widens. "Usually," he confirms. "I'm not really known for hurting people." He frowns, looking at the way Nico held the dagger. "Well, if you're not here to rescue me, what _are_ you doing?"

"I'm not telling you," he responds, giving him the stinkeye. "You might tell Kronos." The guy purses his lips, looking thoughtful.

"Kind of hard to do when he's the one who has me chained up," he responds, shaking his thin shackled wrists for emphasis. Nico frowns. Something wasn't quite right about this guy - why would Kronos chain up one of Poseidon's mer folk? Was this guy high enough ranking in Atlantis that it was best to remove him? Why hadn't they killed him, then? "Come on, can't you help me out? I'll be in your debt, plus," he wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, "I'd practically be willing to do anything." Something hot burns Nico's ears and he averts his gaze, ignoring the smug look the merman was giving him. "I've been chained up for - what year is it?"

"Uh 2009."

"A really long time then, like thirty years. Please?" There's something off about how desperate he sounds that makes Nico take a step back and widen his stance into a more offensive manner. This doesn't go unnoticed, because for a moment, the older boy's eyes narrow.

"No!" Nico responds, brandishing his dagger in what he hoped was a threatening manner. "No matter how many times you've said 'please', it's not going to work. I don't know _who_ you are or _why_ you're here but surely there's a reason."

Something settles in the other's expression. "Oh, I see. You think I'd hurt you." He doesn't sound angry about this fact, just concerned and confused.

Nico lets out a huff of indignation, "Listen, here, I have to-"

"Wait." The boy licks his lips, dark lashes pressing into his tanned cheeks when he closes his eyes, seemingly in thought. His brows furrow, and there's a softer tone to his voice, less energetic and more tired and almost battle worn. Nico wouldn't admit it but he feels almost sad that he has to deny this merman the right to his freedom. "Let me out and I can help you."

The horror still tastes bitter on Nico's tongue. "No." He manages to say this without so much as a stumble over his sentence, even though the older person seems absolutely _wrecked_ by those words.

The boy's eyes snap open, and once again, he is alarmed by the serene blend of blue and green. "No?" he asks, making a strange gargling noise. There's something like confusion on his face, puzzlement that made him cock his head and pull his bow lips into a frown. "Why?" He looks like a kicked seal, eyes widening and lips forming a pout.

"I can't trust you," Nico says, carefully, eyeing the Titan chains.

The boy shakes the shackles, trying for a shaky smile but failing, "Yes. Well. I could always swear on the Styx to not harm you."

Something eases his shoulders. "I still don't trust you," he repeats, but he takes a couple reluctant steps forward. The other's calm eyes watch him patiently and there's almost a softness to his features that suddenly makes Nico desperate to want to help him. Still, he's reluctant.

An eyebrow quirks because apparently he's taking too long. "I hereby declare on the River Styx to not physically harm you if you are to release me from my binds." Nico frowns, noticing the light loophole but he decides to take it at face value. Kronos wouldn't keep someone on his own side captive, anyways, unless it was a trap. Nico sheathes his dagger and draws his sword from his back, because it still dragged down his side if he strapped it to his hip otherwise. He gives a shaky nod and the merboy obediently holds out his hands, keeping them as far apart as he could with the limited chains. Nico raises his Stygian sword above his head and brings it down with a solid crack.

At first, nothing happens. "Do it again," comes the request and Nico grunts with the effort of the next swing. It takes a couple more tries, but as all Stygian iron does, it breaks down the metal and shatters through the Titan curse. Fortunately, it seemed to be of the sort that was bound by complete letterings, and had no protective guard on it. It fell clumsily into the tin bathtub, sliding off the other's sleek form and into the water. "Oh, thanks." He sounds almost surprised and pleased all at once. The thankfulness in his eyes when he looks up at Nico makes the younger boy's mouth go dryer.

"Right," he replies shortly, turning around to his backpack to dig around for the last couple of bombs. "Now, do you think you could help me with-" He turns around to find that the merman has gone, without so much as a ripple within the tub. Surprise bleeds through Nico but he pushes the guilt down and hastily trots across the room to place the bombs and activate them.

After he's done what he needs to, he hurries back onto the deck where Charles is waiting for him behind the mast. "Something is not right," is what they exclaim to each other. Nico has full intentions to telling the darker skinned male about the strange immortal beneath the first floor, but he pushes it to the back of his mind at how concerned Charles seems to be.

"It's too quiet," is all he manages to get out before the floorboards beneath them groan and crack. They stiffen and leap away, but it doesn't rupture open like fissures - nothing dramatic like that. Instead, a rasping chuckle emerges from the wheel and they whirl around, drawing their weapons.

"You know," comes the amused purr from the veteran demigod as he approaches them. He has the grace of a predator, and his eyes are almost ethereal when he looks at them, the skin pulled tight across his cheek only making him look menacing. "Placing those bombs on my deck is only going to make it easier to kill you both."

"Kronos," is all that Charles manages to spit out. Neither of them had seemed to notice the monster creep up behind them, the manticore's tail flashing and pinning Charles down to the floorboards through the shoulder, claws digging into his abdomen and slipping red across the deck.

It is by pure instinct that Nico grapples through his own bag, darting out of the way of an empousa's grasp, to find the backup activation for the bombs. His palms are sticky with sweat when he presses the button, but his justification for his actions is that _At least we get to destroy him as well_ before the world explodes in a vision of white and black and his body is filled with pain.

He hits the water almost immediately after. Water surges overhead and then he's drowning, too slow to draw breath through his charred lungs, feeling his dark and thick clothes weigh him down. He feels panic set in, and he struggles, shedding his coat as best as he could in the heavy water, and trying to kick upwards. The pressure is thick on him, and his feet feel heavy with his soaked sneakers and clothes. His matching set of a Stygian sword and dagger seem keen on bringing him down as well, but he does not relent - he will not rid himself of anything else. His lungs ache and his ears feel clogged - either from the sound of the explosion or the fact that water has since filled the crevices - but he still struggles, thrashing and flailing because the sense of drowning is weighing down on him. He isn't used to being scared - okay, maybe he is, but that is due to him being the Prophecised One - and sure as Hades isn't used to being out of his element like this. Everything feels foreign around him and _wrong_ and since when did it become so hard to breathe? Bubbles burst forth from his mouth and he's drowning.

He wakes up to feel the sandy shore beneath him. It rubs him the wrong way, pressing into his back and he arches away from it subconsciously. He could feel his weapons dig into his sides from where they are positioned. His clothes are still damp, and there's light behind his eyelids. He's almost convinced that he's in Elysium when he finally cracks open his eyes, swallowing dryly and squinting. _Oh my gods,_ is his first thought. _If I've survived, Kronos probably has, too._ His second thought is, _Charles needs to lay off that gunpowder - I think I blew a knee._ Almost automatically after he has these thoughts, a head pops overtop his, blocking the sun from view. He can see the merman's face from before, concern creasing his brows and his mouth marring into a thick worried line. There's little relief in his eyes when he sees Nico breath sharply. Instead, the nameless male thrashes backwards when he sees Nico's brows furrow and his lips pucker. Almost in an instant, he's up and turning his head away, wrenching up foul seawater and chunks of his previous lunch.

"I've forgotten how long you mortals can last without air," the boy comments, but it doesn't sound judging or self-decepraticing. It's just a fact that he states, almost blankly. But his voice has gone softer and if Nico wasn't convinced that most immortals didn't feel concern for people like him, then he would have assumed that the other was worried about his wellbeing. "Are you going to be okay now?"

Nico wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling sand scrape across his cheek and he winces. "I think," he coughs, tasting bile on his lips and he feels disgusted. "I think so. Maybe when I get some ambrosia and nectar, at least." Nico lets out a wheezing gasp and peers around, blinking against the sharp brightness of the sun overhead and peers around the beach. "I - where are we?"

"I believe you've taken to calling this place Miami," the older boy responds, and Nico watches his gaze flick around. There's debris imprinted on his face, both sand and soot and little flecks of wood. There's a few scratches there as well, but he surmises that the other didn't notice or care. "The other one - I assumed the other demigod boy, because I haven't seen him before, well, I assumed he was with you - so he's over there." He motions with his hand, and Nico frowns at the impressions that the handcuffs have left. How long has the older teen been chained up? And for what purpose?

Then _what_ the other has said caught up to him. "Wait, Charles?" There's something almost like alarm and joy in his voice, he knows. The other's lips pull downwards into an unreadable expression and his brows furrow, almost humanely. "He's -" Nico stops himself short, whipping his head in the other direction. Reaching out, he could feel the pulse of life from the other demigod. "Oh, thank the gods." He tries to stand up on his feet, but quickly falls back down.

The older boy frowns again. Nico decides that he doesn't like the look on him. "Why did you help me?" Nico asks, finally. He tries not to ask about Luke's - no, Kronos' - status. It was unlikely the other knew, if he had disappeared so quickly.

Something in his expression clears and his smile is quick to spring back on his face. "I don't know if you know but I'm not known for hurting people, or leaving them to die when I've already promised goodwill on them." He taps Nico's nose, "Especially not cute demigods like you." Nico lets out an exasperated huff, knowing that the immortal meant it in a jest. "Are you really going to be okay now?" The concern is back in his voice and Nico winces, as if for the first time truly feeling the complete effect of his wounds.

"Doesn't matter," he says, quickly. "I'm alive, which means ..." _That the prophecy can continue. That Kronos is most assuredly alive._ Nico feels bitterness rise in his chest. He _hadn't_ asked to be the Chosen One, hadn't asked for Thalia and Bianca to flee to become Artemis' huntresses. Nico was almost tempted to throw himself back into the Casino to save himself from this fate - this _destiny -_ that was thrust upon him since his arrival at Camp. "I have to contact my sister," he blurts out, noticing the other's expression morph slowly into something else. "Do you have any drachmas?" At the other's 'what can I do?' gesture, he lets out a huff. "Of _course_ not."

"Hey, I'm not Hades - I'm not the god of wealth, at all," the boy huffs, slapping his tail loudly against the sand. "Why would you expect me to hold onto some coins that I have no use for? It's not like I had _access_ to it, anyways." Nico scowls at the emphasized words. "Look, just be grateful that you're _alive -_ " and there was the haughty holier-than-thou attitude that most immortals seemed to have. "-and that you could _even_ go back to your sister."

The words cause something cold to settle along his spine. "Fine," he says, because he doesn't know what else _to_ say. "Just don't expect me to thank you."

Confusion is back in those pretty blue-green eyes again, "Of course not. This was a deal - you saved me, I save you. And, well, your companion I guess, but it's better than being alone again anyways." Something twitches inside of Nico. There's something sad and forlorn about the way that those words were spoken. Even though Nico is the Chosen One, others still treated him odd enough - they didn't know how to react to him, didn't know what to make of him. The dark aura of Hades seemed to be putting them off, at least. Nico could relate to this guy's loneliness, which was his reasoning as to why he willingly took the other's hand. It felt slimy, probably due to the fact that he's part fish or something and he has thick webbing between his fingers, but it isn't bad, even though it's a bit difficult with the minimal movement between each joint.

"Right," he says, "Thanks for saving Charles, at least."

Something quirks in the other's lips and amusement touches the corners of his eyes. "Oh? So much for not thanking me."

The punch to the shoulder comes quick and without warning, and perhaps a bit rougher than he intended because the merman flinches. "Shut up."

"I've been asked to stay silent for too long - so, with all due respect, _hell to the no._ " Nico is so surprised that he lets out a faint snort of laughter, and the smile is back on the other's face.

"Get out of my face," he manages to say, but there's less venom to his words now. "I don't want to smell like fish and you positively reek." The other's brows furrow in puzzlement. "You stink," he elaborates and shoves the other away. "Seriously." He stops, frowns. Even though this stranger had helped him, the unease managed to creep back into his body. What was the other's motives? "Do that - disappearing act or something, and get out of here."

The response is patient, "It's not a disappearing act. All gods can do it."

Nico's mouth is suddenly dry. "God?" he repeats, and the other grins, almost predatory as he nods jerkily.

"Yes," he responds with a low hum. "Usually I can do it best when I'm in the water, obviously - what with Poseidon as my father and all." He does a quick twist so that he's dragged himself down into the lapping water somewhat, so that it pools around his sleeker lower half and moistened him. "Already feeling better, like this," he sounds surprised. "Gods, I missed the ocean."

" _God?_ " He squeaks out and the other gives him an unimpressed look.

"Yes," he responds again, sounding almost impatient this time. "I _am_ a _god._ Why is that so surprising?"

The childish part of Nico that was enchanted with Mythomagic is already racing through all the cards he's memorized, trying to recall which one this mer claimed to be. Poseidon's son? No, not Triton - Nico had met him, and he was a douche. Then were a couple others, but ... He squints, curling his fingers through the coarse sand. This merboy had saved him from a shipwreck so that left only one that Nico knew of..

 _Perseus, son of Poseidon and Amphitrite. God of the summer storms, rain, and shipwrecks. A protective god - not normally prayed to, he still ensures safe passage among ships. 300 Attack but bonus of 200 if another Atlantic card is on the field. If paired with Poseidon, Poseidon's Trident, or Delphin, attack increases by 400._ Perseus the Shipwrecker was an uncommon card, only because not many knew of him or cared for his stats.

Oh, did he know of Perseus. Perseus was one of six minor gods and goddesses who had mysteriously dropped off the face of the earth with no trace or without warning - he wasn't commonly worshipped except for during the time of the pirates, when they especially wanted good sailing. He was minor, even less well known than Triton, Poseidon's heir. The Romans apparently wanted nothing to do with him, despite him offering protection during seafaring journeys, and thus didn't give him a Roman counterpart. Nico just didn't expect for him to be so ... well, _childish._ In a way. Or needy. But then again ... when you've been held captive and in solitude for gods know how long - centuries, most likely - it was bound for your social skills to regress and you to act something unlike you usually would.

"Perseus," he blurts out, quick and quiet but the other seemed to hear him regardless; he feels ashamed and amazed all at once.

For a moment, the other's eyes widen comically before a pleased smile widens his lips. Perseus positively beams, but there's a healthy and rosy glow to his cheeks. It's almost like he's preening under the fact that Nico knew who he was. "I go by Percy," he turns to face Nico with an amazing flexibility, "It rolls off the tongue easier, at least according to the demigods of the seventeenth century. You know of me?"

Nico can only nod numbly, still processing it. He was talking to not only an _immortal,_ but a _god_ \- and _his cousin._ "Yeah, I guess," he stutters then catches himself. "You're not really popular in Mythomagic - they only printed about a couple hundred copies but I thought you were still pretty cool-" he's babbling, and only forces himself to stop when he notices the god's expression glaze over. "And, I," he forces himself to say, "have to contact my sister and you should probably go home."

"Getting rid of me already, are you?" Percy asks, slowly, as if coming out of a daze. By the look on his face, he probably was. Nico knew that he could literally bore others to death if he wanted to with his talk of his card game. To be fair, it saved plenty of lives when he applied it to his.

"Yes," he responds, quickly, brutally honest and without lie. Percy purses his lips and furrows his eyebrows.

"Well, alright," he agrees slowly. "You have a point there." And then _there's_ the seriousness that Nico would expect of a god, but it's softer and less harsh than he'd expect, with an almost wounded undercurrent to the words. Something in him shifts at the reassignment in his voice.

"You don't have to-"

"You can always call me if you need to." They stare blankly at each other for a moment, Percy's eyes surprisingly wide and curious and suspicious all at once. Even though he was the one insisting for the demigod to trust him, the skepticism was heavy-handed in the creases around his eyes and the way his mouth pulled down into a frown.

Percy's words are deceptively cold and harsh when he continues, "You can call for me if you need my aid, for I am in your debt." He pauses, and taps his fingers against the gentle curve of Nico's cheeks. It's almost intimate and something warms in the bottom of his gut. "But you're right - I have to go. My father and mother are probably wondering..." He frowns, swaying from where he's half-sitting - which seemed entirely possible, with how he curled his tail. "I have my godly duties to perform and years to catch up on."

"And a war to learn about," Nico supplies, voice surprisingly quiet. The skeptic look on the son of Poseidon's face doesn't go unnoticed. "Trust me, a lot of stuff has been going on since your disappearance. Although it makes sense now why you haven't answered any prayers or something.."

"So, then you'll explain this to me the next time we meet?" Nico makes himself believe that there's _hopefulness_ to the other's voice. "Right...?"

"Nico," he supplies, carefully and the mer nods, cheerful again.

"Nico," he repeats, savouring the name and the younger demigod shudders, disbelieving of himself that he's affected so much by his cousin's use of his name. "Alright, I will remember you Nico. Call for me?"

"I will," he promises, quickly. This seems to please Percy because his grin widens and he squeezes Nico's wrist affectionately before wriggling away and digging the heels of his palm into the sand to push himself down the shoreline.

Nico frowns, watching the water almost morph around the merman's body as he splashes back into the ocean. He could feel the tug of Charles' soul on him, could feel the pressure to check on him, but the amazement and horror is still settling inside of him. He had _back talked to a god._ No, wait. A god flirted with _him._ Kind of. But he was a total prick at times and came off as immature compared to the others. Still ... this 'Percy' could prove an ally to the gods' war. Nico runs a hand down his face and lets out an exasperated sigh.

Why did his life have to be so complicated?


End file.
